


Meet the Pack

by xxxillusionxxx



Series: What's Love Got to Do With It? [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Captivity, M/M, Stockholm Syndrome, serial killer! Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2014-07-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:29:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxillusionxxx/pseuds/xxxillusionxxx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles meets some of the people close to Derek.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Meet the Pack

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series and really makes more sense if you read the prequels.

Stiles stared at the ceiling fan swirling overhead. Part of him wanted to scour the room, check to make sure that there was really nothing useful in the Spartan bedroom that he could use for escape. The smarter part of him knew that he’d spent the first two weeks trapped in this room doing just that and there was no possible way that he had missed anything. 

He sighed. Being upgraded to Derek’s bedroom was better than being trapped in the basement—there was a bathroom, thank God—but a lot of things hadn’t changed. The dresses for one. Stiles was starting to think that Derek viewed him as a doll the way he always came back with new outfits for Stiles to wear. 

He turned over and the chain attached to his ankle shifted with him. That was the other thing. Even though the door was locked all day while Derek was at work, Derek still kept Stiles chained to a hook on the floor. That he couldn’t break. He’d tried. 

A sound in the other room caught Stiles’s attention. He sat up in the plush king bed and strained his ears, listening for it again. Nothing. 

Then suddenly the door handle was jiggling. Stiles held his breath. Derek shouldn’t be home yet. 

The door opened and…that wasn’t Derek. The stranger stared at Stiles in surprise and Stiles stared owlishly back. The man blinked and sighed deeply, shutting the door behind him and moving toward the bed. 

Stiles shrank away from the man, and he cooed soothingly. 

“Oh sweetheart, did my nephew do this?” he asked. 

Stiles blinked at him, holding a pillow in front of him like he could actually use it in self-defense.

“Can…can you help me?” he half-whispered, wincing at the sheer level of hope bleeding into his voice. 

“Trust me….um…”

“Stiles,” Stiles supplied. 

“Stiles. Stiles? The Sheriff’s son? Oh my. Anyway, Stiles, you don’t want my help. Do you remember all those eviscerated bodies they found a few years ago?” the man asked kindly. 

Stiles blanched. He remembered that case, had seen the pictures of the bodies—or what was left of them—when his dad had had a little too much whiskey one night. 

“That was you?” he asked, shrinking back against the headboard and squeezing his pillow tighter to his chest. 

The man shrugged. 

“Just some of my work. Not my finest, I assure you,” he said. 

Stiles laughed hysterically, looking desperately around the room for a weapon that he knew wasn’t there. 

“Relax, Stiles. I’m not going to kill you. Mind you, I should, but I’m not going to,” the man reassured. 

“Oh, uh, you’re Derek’s uncle?” Stiles asked, clinging to that piece of information like a lifeline. 

“Peter Hale,” the man said, offering his hand. 

Stiles shook it hesitantly and when he tried to pull away, Peter grabbed his wrist and dragged his upper body forward until his head was on Peter’s shoulder and Peter was sniffing at his neck. 

“You know what you smell like?” Peter whispered. 

Stiles shivered but never heard the answer as the door slammed opened and Peter was thrown off of him by a furious looking Derek. 

“What the fuck are you doing here, Peter?” Derek practically growled. 

Stiles noticed Derek’s claws and imagined that his eyes were glowing crimson. He slipped onto the floor, putting the bed between himself and the angry werewolf. 

Peter put his hands up in surrender and didn’t bother getting off the floor. 

“Derek, I came to visit you. Imagine my surprise when I find, not you, but the missing sheriff’s son in your bedroom,” Peter’s face hardened and his tone became more clipped, “Are you out of your fucking mind? You can’t keep this up forever; you’re going to have to get rid of him sooner rather than later!”

Stiles flinched and his breathing became ragged. His attention narrowed down to one spot on the comforter in front of him and…holy crap he was having a panic attack. He gasped for air that he couldn’t seem to get into his lungs and it took him a long few moments for him to realize that someone was rubbing his back.

“Stiles, breathe. Just take deep breaths,” Stiles heard Derek say over the ringing in his ears. 

He blinked as his vision went back to normal along with his breathing. Stiles looked at Derek, who seemed genuinely concerned and smiled slightly. 

“Sorry, thank you,” he whispered. 

Derek smiled fondly before rounding on his uncle. 

“I don’t know what high ground you’re trying to stand on right now, but I’m not accepting judgment from a serial killer,” he said harshly. 

Peter actually smiled toothily at that, standing up and brushing his pants nonchalantly. 

“And yet you cover for me quite well. All I’m trying to do is look after you, nephew. If you choose to be reckless, then who am I to stop you?” he said, heading for the door, “I’ll stop by another day then,” he added before shutting it behind him. 

Stiles stared at the closed door, not moving from his position on the floor. Derek sat next to him silently and it took him a few minutes to realize that he was staring at him. 

“Stiles,” Derek said and Stiles jumped a little, staring wide eyed at the werewolf. 

Derek frowned deeply and a bad feeling started to grow in the pit of Stiles’s stomach. 

“You’re so quiet lately,” Derek said, still frowning. 

Stiles licked his lips, noting that Derek tracked the movement with his eyes. 

“I just…don’t have anything to talk about?” he said it like a question, like he knew that there was a right answer and he wasn’t sure that this was it. 

Some unreadable emotion flitted across Derek’s face before he was leaning in and pressing his lips firmly against Stiles’s . 

Sex was something that Stiles was coming around on. It was one of the things that had changed when he moved upstairs. It wasn’t that Stiles wanted to have sex with Derek, but he was somehow more accepting of the fact that it was going to happen than he used to be. It usually didn’t hurt and sometimes it even felt good. 

What he did learn was that Derek loved to hear him react and so he did. He moaned when Derek dragged him up onto the bed. He whined when Derek fingered him open and he only half-faked the whimpers and grunts while Derek fucked him. 

In the aftermath—which was always Stiles’s favorite part—Derek held him close and peppered his neck and jaw with leisurely kisses. 

“Would you like a friend?” Derek asked quietly after a few minutes of comfortable silence. 

Stiles stiffened in Derek’s arms and the man cooed soothingly. 

“I have a pack you know. Some of them are around your age. I could let them visit you if you wanted,” he clarified. 

Stiles tried to find the catch. He knew there had to be one. 

“Um, won’t they think this is…weird?” Stiles asked hesitantly. 

Derek shrugged. 

“They don’t question me anymore,” he said ominously. 

Stiles somehow wasn’t surprised given what he knew about the werewolf. I mean hell, he’d kidnapped the _sheriff’s son_ for fuck’s sake. 

___ 

“Stiles.”

Stiles jerked awake and practically fell off the bed. 

“Wah? Who are you?” he asked, blinking at the blonde bombshell leaning against the door frame. She couldn’t be much older than him. 

The girl shrugged. 

“I’m Erica. Derek told me to come bond with you or whatever,” she said simply. 

Part of Stiles wanted to come back with a snappy response but the much larger part of him wanted nothing more than human contact and refused to send the stranger away. 

“Oh, ok. Um, so are you also… you know…all clawed and fanged?” he asked. 

Erica’s eyes flashed a supernatural yellow which managed to both answer Stiles’s question and scare the shit out of him. He wasn’t very fond of the werewolves he’d met so far. 

“Wait, how old are you? Shouldn’t you be in school right now?” Stiles asked suddenly. 

Erica rolled her eyes. 

“Jeez, _dad_ , I dropped out. Got my GED online,” she cocked her head to the side thoughtfully, “you could probably do that too, amber alert.”

“You think…Derek will let me do that?” Stiles asked hesitantly.

Erica shrugged. 

“Sure, I don’t see why he’d care as long as it was under a false name. Especially when we leave Beacon Hills,” she said. 

“Wait, leave Beacon Hills?” Stiles asked nervously.

“Yeah, Derek’s just waiting for everything to settle down, then we’re out of here,” she said lightly. 

Stiles digested that information. So long as he was in Beacon Hills, some part of him felt like he could one day get out of here, that his dad would come rescue him somehow. If they were gone…he would never see his father again. 

Stiles felt his shoulders slump and he tried to fight the sudden prick of tears in his eyes. 

“Anyway,” Erica said quickly, “I brought the batman movies if you wanna marathon them.”

Stiles shrugged and made room on the bed without looking at her. He could sense her discomfort when she settled down beside him, starting the first movie. Stiles watched the movie without really paying attention and didn’t come out of his own swirling thoughts until he felt a hand on his back, hesitant at first then rubbing in soothing circles. 

“It’ll get better,” she said reassuringly. 

Stiles looked at her doubtfully. 

“Were you held against your will too?” he asked. 

She shook her head and smirked slightly. 

“I asked for the bight. Never really understood what I was getting into though. You get past it. Pack can be a good thing,” she said. 

“There are others?” he asked. 

“Yeah. Me, Boyd, Isaac, oh you and Scott would probably get along! I should talk to him about meeting you. He’s kind of…rebelling right now,” she said with a wince. 

Stiles steeled himself to ask the question that had been burning him for months. 

“Erica, is my dad ok? The sheriff?” he asked desperately. 

Erica’s face closed off. 

“We’re not supposed to talk about that,” she said ominously. 

Stiles slammed his fists on the bed. He’d tried to ask Derek so many times. The conversation never ended well. 

“Please! Please just tell me _something,_ I swear I won’t tell Derek!” he pleaded, not bothering to hold back his tears this time. 

“Ugh, fine. Fine!” she snapped, “he’s _fine_. He thinks you died and he’s over it. Do you feel better now?” 

Stiles stilled. His body felt cold and empty. He felt something snap inside of him. No one was looking. No one was looking for him. He was going to die here. 

He took a deep shakey breath and slumped against the headboard. 

“Let’s just watch the movie,” he said void of emotion. 

Erica shrugged and they sat in silence while the movie played.

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on [tumblr!!!](http://nightshadekisses.tumblr.com/)


End file.
